


Of Eternal Souls and Finite Things

by 2shytheshippy



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:36:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6512935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2shytheshippy/pseuds/2shytheshippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Crane, you've had mentors like Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and partners like Betsy Ross and me; Washington knew you had a destiny, but not the significance of it.” At Crane’s confusion, Abbie laughed. “We're kinda of like the various Doctors of Doctor Who: we’re incarnations of the same entity, but in our case, it's eternal souls."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Eternal Souls and Finite Things

**Author's Note:**

> Because everyone knows that ending was bullshit...

“All our times have come  
Here, but now they’re gone  
Seasons don’t fear the reaper  
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain  
(We can be like they are)”  
-(Don’t Fear) the Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult

Crane hissed as he tried to move onto his side.

He felt pain in his abdomen. 

Blindly, Crane sought out his abdomen and jolt of pain shot up through him again. Again, he hissed and swore in references that only made sense to someone from the 18th century and to Abbie.

Abbie…

How could he go on without her?

Admittedly, their importance to one another was originally due to their roles as Witnesses, but in a short time, she’d come to mean so much more than that—whatever it was destiny had in store for them. Now she was gone, dead. She’d sacrificed herself for mankind and he was alone, again. Although that sounded selfish, even to his own ears, Crane couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t just a man out of time; he was a man without his partner, his best friend, and his lover. 

Abbie provided him stability and he hope to God that he’d offered the same. She’d been through so much her entire life from her father abandoning her and Jenny; their mom going crazy, and becoming a ward of the state and that was before you included the Moloch situation that strained Abbie and Jenny’s relationship for over a decade. Although she was of the right time era, as a result of hurdles life threw her way—both unfortunate and supernatural, she’d felt disconnected from her own reality. Despite, different backgrounds, cultures, and centuries, not even fate could explain their instant connection.

Abbie and Crane’s transition from friends to lovers hadn’t been taken light. They knew there was so much that could’ve went wrong, so very wrong and that they’d be complicating matters by becoming involved beyond their biblically appointed roles and, yet; their evolution of their relationship seemed inevitable. Even natural.

Undoubtedly, Crane had been in love before. 

He wouldn’t have married Katrina otherwise and he refused to downplay his feelings and love for her either. Betsy was a different case: although they never dated or expressed romantic feelings, they’d been true and deep. But, Abbie was another story entirely. She completed him in ways he couldn’t describe—she was his better half. Her strength, her resilience, her humor, her love, her flaws, and her complexities shaped her into the most remarkable woman he’d ever met and loved, and Crane has met and loved other remarkable women. But, she…

Words fail him and he was usually verbose.

But, she was more…more than a lover and more than label girlfriend, or even the wife, for that matter. They were more, they’d always been more, and they’d always be more.

Crane painfully swallowed as he moved his finger. They felt moist and sticky.

Slowly, he removed his hand from his abdomen and inspected it. 

Blood, as he suspected. 

Crane tried to move, but it hurt too much and he was loosing far too much blood. 

Did Miss Jenny notice he was no longer with her—that he’d fallen behind.

She would find him, Crane knew it. And he wouldn’t go out like this: dead in a secret tunnel due to the blast of an explosion. He was a Witness--he remaining witness—and he still had to fight the impending apocalypse. 

As Crane waited for Jenny, he applied pressure to his wound. He fought to keep his eyes open, but he didn’t see anything wrong with closing them for a few seconds. 

Somehow, Crane ended up in a jail cell. 

Before he had time to process his surroundings and the situation, Abbie walked in. Immediately, Crane stood up.

She wore a sheriff department’s uniform as she walked carefully to him. Warmly, she said, “Crane…”

His pounded with excitement.

She was alive.

Abbie was…alive.

“Abbie!” Relief washed through him as he looked at his beloved. He grabbed the jail bars and pulled himself against it. “Unlock the door, let’s go home.” 

After Abbie, after loving Abbie and being with Abbie, Crane knew that home was not a place, but a person you shared your life with. But, home also included being in a place where they weren’t separated and were able to hold and touch each other. Crane just wanted to wrap Abbie in his arms or lie in her lap as she held him. But, either way, he never waited to be separated from her again. 

They’d finish this mission alive and together—Witnesses weren’t supposed to bury each other. 

Abbie sadly smiled at him. It looked as if she wanted to tell him something, but kept it to herself. It wasn’t a secret though; they didn’t keep secrets. Not anymore.

“You’re not going back, Crane,” she stated. “We’re not going back.” Abbie’s fingers caressed Crane’s before she finally rested her hands on top of his. She sorrowfully said, “It’s time we made our peace.”

Tenderly, she kissed Crane’s knuckles before she turned to leave.

“No, Abbie—Abbie don’t,” Crane said in desperation. “Abbieeee!”

Suddenly, Crane stumbled into the Archives.

Disoriented, he looked at his new location, and then at his…Abbie.

Not knowing what to say, Crane remarked, “I saw the box take you.” 

Tears welled in his eyes at the memory.

“It did,” Abbie confirmed. “It used my soul, but now the box is broken to bits. You saw to that. I'm free. We are eternal souls, Crane.”

Inquisitively, Crane asked, “What does that mean?”

Abbie shrugged, “Well…I don't really know myself, but I couldn't go into the light.” She looked down at the table in thought as she bit her lip. “There was an old friend there who came to tell me that my job is done.”

Crane looked perplexed as he processed Abbie’s comment. “And this place...where are we?”

“It's a waiting room between life and death. I am being called.” Cryptically, Abbie looked at him.

“No, Abbie,” Crane contradicted. “We began this journey together, we will end it together.”

Abbie nodded. “Our journey isn't over, but for a witness, it never truly is. But...Abbie Mills and Ichabod Crane have done what we were supposed to do.”

Abbie stood up and extended at hand to Crane. Carefully, she took his hand in hers.

Crane finds himself on the porch.

Abbie joined him shortly afterwards and sat next to him.

She is radiant.

“I don't understand,” he said, simultaneously, it was directed to Abbie and no one in particular. 

Abbie chuckled. “Don't try, it's more something...you feel.” Gently, she rested her head on his shoulder and involuntarily, their fingers intertwined. 

“Your whole life has finally fallen into place,” he concluded definitively.

Lovingly, Abbie smiled at him. “Mmm...yes, it has. I made peace with it, Crane. Whatever this next stage is, I'm ready. It's time for a new beginning.”

“What is there for me in a world without you,” he questioned. The double meaning of Crane’s question didn’t escape Abbie. How could it? Everything that meant to each other and, it wasn’t just as Witnesses, but also in every aspect.

“Crane, you've had mentors like Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and partners like Betsy Ross and me; Washington knew you had a destiny, but not the significance of it.” At Crane’s confusion, Abbie laughed. “We're kinda of like the various Doctors of Doctor Who: we’re incarnations of the same entity, but in our case, it's eternal souls. We come back again and again, but never as the same person with the same identities. Think about it, Crane: we've existed since Sumerian times--at the very least. If we were meant to be the same person--the same people, why don't we ever retain our memories or, hell, why are we even mortal for that matter? Why are we allowed to die? Like I said, I don't really understand it, but maybe our roles as witnesses, each incarnation, is to carry the mission forward for the next incarnation—whenever or whatever the hell that may be. Because this mission, this huge, life altering and consuming responsibility, is more than two people should have to fight for decades, hell, even centuries--there has to be others. And—and can you honestly say, Crane, that we haven't done that? That we've haven't carried the mission forward? Face it: our job is done.

“No, no, leftenant, it can't be--it just doesn't make sense,” Crane rationalized.

Abbie looked at Crane, “But, doesn't it? It's time to make peace, Crane. You reminded me that we began our journey together, and then declared that we'd end it together, but we can't if you refuse to move on. Our chapter is over; let the next witnesses begin theirs. They'll take over the monster bashing responsibilities, okay? And they'll figure it out just like we did. I'm ready for our new beginning, Crane.”

Serenity and understanding enveloped Crane. This was the end and he was okay with that. Their mission was over and he was…dead. And that was okay. Their souls were eternal, so the Witnesses never died even though they had. There were two people out there who would take over and fight the good fight. Although they could never exist at the same time, it wasn’t only just he and Abbie; they were just the vessels for that time.

Softly, Crane pressed his lips to Abbie’s forehead. “I—I am too.” 

“My, my, be still my beating heart.” Abbie widely grinned at Crane. Somberly, she said, “Crane...whatever you and I were led to believe about what being a Witness meant, I'm going to miss too: we did a lot of good; actually, we did more than that: we honored our bond, we were brave, and we were strong. And I know they'll be too. “

In response, Crane raised a finger, “Ah, leftenant, but, not as kick ass as us."

Unexpectedly, Abbie let out a deep-bellied laugh and, eventually, tears streamed down her face. “Oh no, nowhere as near as kick ass as us,” she declared. As Crane tenderly wiped her tears away, Abbie said, “You're my guy, always.”

“And you're my leftenant, always.”

In absolute reverence, Crane kissed Abbie’s forehead, and then trailed his lips to her left temple as his left hand caressed the right side of her face. His lips trailed across her skin as his lips then kissed her brow ridge, and her closed eye; they travelled down the bridge of her nose before they dangerously lingered close to her mouth. 

This was no ordinary love.

Abbie closed the distance. 

~*~*~*~

Frantic, Jenny waved, and snapped her fingers in the remaining Witness’s face. “Crane! Crane!”

She shook his shoulders as his head lolled, and then rapidly patted his face in hopes for a spur his attention.

Crane’s breathing was far apart and shallow. His eyes were heavy and he was unaware of touch, sound, pain, or really anything, for that matter. He was on the porch with Abbie: he saw light and heard Abbie’s call.

Finally, he takes his last breath, as his eyes remain partially open.

It’s time for his new beginning with Abbie; it’s time for the new witnesses to arise.

Although Jenny didn’t want to confirm her suspicions, she checked his pulse.

“Crane,” she painfully sobbed. “No, no, no....this can’t be happening. Noooooo, Crane.” 

Jenny tried to hold back her tears, but cried as she held Crane’s lifeless body.

~*~*~*~

At peace, Abbie and Crane walked by a lake as the sun rose.

“Who will look after Miss Jenny?”

Abbie grabbed Crane’s arm and leaned against it. “Jenny doesn’t need looking after, she hasn’t for a while,” Abbie explained. “But, still, I hate to leave her like this…alone as I was taken from her so unexpectedly.” Thoughtfully, she continued, “I thought I couldn’t go into the light, until I helped you move on as well, but maybe that’s only part of it. Maybe we can’t move onto the light until my sister knows that my death—our deaths aren’t in vain.”

Crane looked at the sunrise, and then to Abbie. “And how do we do that exactly?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. She stopped walking and crossed her arms against her chest. “But, I don’t think it was Joe’s time. Perhaps, he’s here to get closure from Corbin and we’re supposed to lead him back, and then guide Jenny and him to the new witness incarnations,” she explained. “He’d help her cope while they fight against evil with the other you and me.”

“Sounds like a plan…”

~*~*~*~

“Come on baby  
(Don’t fear the reaper)  
Baby take my hand  
(Don’t fear the reaper)  
We’ll be able to fly  
(Don’t fear the reaper)

La, la, la, la, la  
La, la, la, la, la…

Come on baby  
(And she had no fear)  
And she ran to him  
(Then they started to fly)  
They looked backward and said goodbye  
(She had become like they are)  
She had taken his hand  
(She had become like they are)

Come on baby  
(Don’t fear the reaper)


End file.
